


Challenge

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Names, Noldorin princes snarking at each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Fëanor + Fingolfin + Finarfin + "Are you challenging me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge

“I beg you, half brother, speak plainly for once if you intend to challenge me in such a public sphere as my father’s court.”

Ñolofinwë did not even twitch, the only sign that he had acknowledged Fëanáro’s tone a minute narrowing of his eyes. “Why, Fëanáro, I would say rather that _you_ were challenging _me_. If you had heard my words - ”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying heed to the precise ones you used.”

“ - and could refrain for a moment from interrupting me, then you would know that I was inquiring as to the reasoning behind the name you bestowed upon your firstborn. _Nelyafinwë_ … well, it is certainly an _interesting_ choice.” Ñolofinwë’s eyes narrowed a little further. 

Fëanáro met them, and returned his gaze, steely-eyed. “It is a choice. Some may find it interesting. I find it factual.”

“Every name given to one of the Eldar, they say, sends a message. For a prince of our people, doubly so.”

Fëanáro smiled icily. “That is certainly also true.”

“And with that in mind, I wonder if you should not have taken a little greater care with your counting, brother… after all, a name lasts forever and may be a burden as well as an asset to its bearer.”

“What is your point, pray tell?”

“Only that _I_ should not like to have a father name that is a mirror for _my_ father’s self-reassurance. I suppose we should both count ourselves lucky, brother, that when the two of us were born, Father was already secure enough on his throne to not feel the need to reduce his sons to an extension of his grip on his position.”

Fëanáro tilted his jaw, with a wry smile. “I appreciate your concern, such as it is, but have no fear, Ñolofinwë. I am, I assure you, _highly_ secure in my position.”

“Glad to hear it” said Ñolofinwë stiffly, drawing himself a little taller. For a moment they held eye contact, words hanging in the air between them, thickening and charging it with unspoken things. Then a voice made them both turn. 

“Ñolvo, there you are” said Arafinwë, looking doubtfully for a moment between his brother and half brother, before his face set once more into an easy, agreeable smile. _His battle armour_ , Ñolofinwë thought affectionately. “Father was looking for you. Fëanáro, the representatives of the Tailors’ and Weavers’ Guilds would like to pay their respects to the new prince on the occasion of his birth. I sent them to Nerdanel, but I know they were hoping that the new father would also put in an appearance.”

Fëanáro hesitated for a mere moment, then nodded curtly, before turning on his heel. 

When he had gone, Ñolofinwë merely turned to his brother and raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips. 

Arafinwë shrugged. “The Naming of a new prince of the house of Finwë is not the time or place for such conversations. I was merely averting… uncomfortableness. For mother and father’s sake, if not for yours.”

Ñolofinwë smiled grimly. “You’re right of course, Arafinwë.”

Still, his thoughts went with Fëanáro, his eyes following his half-brother’s retreating back until he was lost to sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Maedhros' father name is Nelyafinwë, which translates to "third Finwë", arguably a provocation by Fëanor to Fingolfin.


End file.
